Ha, found it. A few little in-jokes, but you get the gist …
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Grimsby and from Cleethorpes.
But I was there.
I was there in 1933.
I was there embroidering a crocodile on Reno Lacoste’s blazer.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they walk down the Seven Sisters with a Head bag full of Patrick cagoules.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every top firm from 1978 to 1985 to visit Goodison.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sunderland and Ayrshire.
I'm losing my edge to the podcasters in Ice jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered eighties.
But I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge, but I was there.
I was there.
But I was there.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on Piccadilly platforms.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978 spray painting “Ordinary to Chelsea” outside Liverpool Lime Street.
I was styling Roddy Frame in Taccini with much patience.
I was there when Noel Gallagher discovered adidas Samba.
I told him, "Don't let your brother wear trackie bottoms. You'll never make a quid."
I was there.
I was the first guy wearing Diadora Bjorg Elite to Saltergate.
I wore them to Mr Smith’s in Warrington.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I didn’t get in.
But I was there.
I've never been wrong.
I used to work in Wade Smith.
I had everything before anyone.
I was there in Sweden with England in 1992.
I was there in Dublin during the great ideological clashes.
I woke up naked except for a Navy Arctic on the beach in Blackpool in 1988.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nasty to me.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a sample of every decent jacket Osti ever produced. Every prototype. All the experimental fabrics. All the never used dyes. I heard you have a 1960s space suit that inspired a Japanese import. I heard that you have a Nazi military uniform designed by Hugo Boss. I heard that you went prematurely bald to look like Cressa. I heard you studied Visigoths at school so you could be like The Stone Roses. I’m told you have all the original artwork for Fools Gold framed in your cellar. I heard you sold the first E at Spike Island. I heard you did the first rub out on Persil train tickets.
I hear you're buying a CP Mille Miglia jacket and a Boneville t-shirt and are throwing your Next jumpers out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make an insta persona.
I hear that you and your followers have sold your M&S polo shirts and bought MA Strum.
I hear that you and your followers have sold your MA Strum and bought M&S polos.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my tracksuits and trainers … Fila BJ, Settanta, Ellesse, Nike Omega Flame, NB collab with Stone Island, adidas Blackburn …
GARY ASPDEN
Proper Magazine, Roo Oxley, Paninaro, Aquascutum scarf, Burberry golf jacket, Hurleys, Armani jumpers, Paul & Shark, Lyle & Scott bucket hats, Joy Division at Eric’s, Liam at Knebworth, Coldplay at Old Trafford, Irvine Welsh, Benetton rugby tops, Pretty Green sunglasses, TK Maxx.
You don't know what you really want.